Warpath
by LNicol1990
Summary: A web of lies is fragile when it is made of glass, and he who walks it must tread carefully.
1. Dropping the Glass

Merlin turned to look at Arthur. It seemed amazing how much the man had changed, from the arrogant, selfish prince to a proud young man, a king in waiting. He looked more like a king than a prince, to Merlin, riding his horse, beside his hunting party.

"What?" Arthur asked, looking at Merlin from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing," Merlin smiled to himself, returning his gaze to the path.

"What?" Arthur repeated, turning his head slightly, frowning in confused suspicion.

"I was just thinking about when we first met," Merlin admitted.

"Oh yes," Arthur also began to smile, remembering the many occasions where Merlin had ended up in the stocks. "Amazing to think that I've only known you for nineteen months. It feels a lot longer," he mused.

The friends exchanged glances and smiled to each other. However, when Arthur looked away, Merlin's smiled dropped.

It had been a year since Arthur had almost been killed by the Questing Beast, since Merlin had made the bargain to save his friend's life. It had been a year since he had last spoken to the Great Dragon, with the promise to never see the creature again, or let it leave the cavern that Uther had imprisoned it in. It had been a year since he had killed Nimueh.

Even though he knew that he had ended her life so that he could save Gaius, even though he knew that she was evil and had set out to control the world... her death still didn't sit right in the young warlock. Maybe it wasn't her death that was so unsettling; maybe it was the ease in which he had had brought her existence to an end. The ease of deciding life and death, now that was something that definitely didn't sit well in Merlin's stomach.

Arthur quickly noticed the change in his friend. He turned to look at Merlin again, not bothering to hide his concern.

He'd become a lot more open since Merlin had entered his life, more true to himself. With Merlin, he'd managed to overcome the problems that he hadn't even realised existed. He'd learnt how to make friends, not just gain the attention and praise of everyone in the room. He learnt how to listen to those he had once thought worthless, below his level. Because of Merlin, he'd learnt to open his eyes to what Camelot really was.

"Merlin? What's wrong?" he asked, his forehead creasing in worry.

Merlin shook his head at his friend, trying to smile easily, but found that he couldn't pull it off. But, even though he knew that, he wasn't going to put his own problems onto Arthur's shoulders. Besides, how could he explain to Arthur, in front of half a battalion of knights, that he used magic and had used it to kill someone? Granted, that someone had tried to kill Arthur, Hunith, Merlin's mother, and Gaius, but… he'd still killed someone.

And it hadn't even been the first time, either. Mary Collins had been the first person he'd killed, although he hadn't meant to kill her. Edwin had been the second, as he'd saved Gaius and his own neck in the process. Sophia and her father, Aulfric had been next, as they had tried to kill Arthur so the woman could return to Avalon. And then there was Nimueh.

So in total, he'd already killed five people. They had all been sorcerers or sorceresses, though. They had all been like Merlin, creatures that stemmed from the Old Religion; they were magic from the Earth itself. Just like the dragon.

Although it was mid-summer, Merlin shivered as he realised this. He killed everything like him. Either that or he would abandon them. Thinking about it, it shocked Merlin that Gaius and Morgana were still alive. Gaius had once used magic, and Morgana was a seer. It seemed amazing that he hadn't killed them yet. Amazing and sickening.

"Merlin?" Arthur repeated, his concern was threatening to become full blown panic as his friend's unresponsiveness.

Arthur had noticed Merlin retreating into his head plenty of times over the past year. To begin with, he had asked Merlin about, but the young man had assured him that nothing was wrong, and so he'd let it drop. As time went on, it just became part of who Merlin was, and Arthur accepted it as a quirk in his friend. But, every so often, like right now, Merlin would retreat so far that he was deaf to Arthur's near frantic calls.

"Merlin!" Arthur restrained himself from shouting, but shook his friend roughly by the shoulder.

Merlin instantly looked at Arthur, as if surprised to find him so close. He could see the unadulterated concern in his friend's eyes, but knew that he had no words to placate his friend. So, he went for the usual response of looking shamefully down at the ground. He was aware of Arthur releasing his shoulder, and then heard the prince sigh.

"Why do you do that, Merlin?" Arthur asked rhetorically. "Do you know how much that scares me? And it's not just me you scare."

Merlin could feel his face heating up. He knew Arthur was right. He scared Morgana, he scared Gwen, and he'd even scared Gaius sometimes, even though the physician was aware of the problem.  
But Gaius couldn't help him. No one could help him.

"I'm sorry," Merlin muttered.

"Merlin, I don't want you to be sorry," Arthur argued, noticing Merlin's attempt to escape the conversation. "I want to know what's wrong."

"I can't tell you," Merlin whispered, to the point where Arthur thought he'd misheard.

"What? Why not?" Arthur frowned, wondering what could be so terrible. "Whatever it is, Merlin, you can tell me."

"Not this," Merlin stated.

Arthur was about to ask, when a sound caught his attention. His head snapped towards the sound, and he noticed Merlin following his gaze. But neither of them could see or hear anything.

"Someone's following us," Arthur murmured.

All the knights dismounted their bearers and were scanning the forest for any sign of disturbance. Every sword had been drawn, and they all waited, watching.

Then, a group of men jumped out from the foliage, all screaming war cries. They were instantly met by the knights, and the fight began.

Merlin watched dazed as the knights relentlessly tore apart the bandits who had dared to attack them. It was obvious to Merlin that they were only doing so out of show, in the hopes that the bandits would turn tail and flee. But none had shown any inclination to fall back, and the attackers were intent on leaving a mark on the group.

It was then that Merlin noticed a particularly burly individual was making his way to Arthur. Merlin's blood chilled as he saw the man raise a mace with both hands. It was going to strike Arthur, and it would kill him.

Without even thinking, Merlin drove straight at his friend and bowled him over, the pair of them narrowly missing the thunderous swing. Merlin quickly regained his feet, but Arthur was slower, trying to register what had just happened.

Their attacker released one of the hands holding his weapon, and swiped backhandedly at Merlin. The sorcerer tried to dodge, but was too late. The massive hand whacked Merlin around his forehead, sending him spinning until he hit the floor with a definitive thud.

Arthur, seizing the opportunity, thrust his sword into the man's abdomen. There was a grunt of pain from the man as Arthur pulled his weapon out of the man. With death's mortal sigh, the man fell lifeless to the ground.

Arthur turned around to look at the unconscious form of his friend, relieved to see the man still breathing. There was a hideous gash across the young man's head, and blood was flowing freely from it. Thankfully, the head wound seemed to be the only injury Merlin had suffered.

Arthur fell to his knees before Merlin, laying his hands on the man's shoulders. He turned his head to his men as he heard them cheer in victory, and then returned his anxious sight to his friend. As he saw Merlin's eyes twitch, he sighed in relief, hanging his head as a sudden exhaustion took hold of him. Hearing his name, Arthur raised his head.

Merlin was gazing blearily at him. His blood had covered one eyelid, which was now covering the actual eye. Merlin's face was twitching as he tried to blink the blood out of his eye, fruitlessly.

As he saw Arthur was looking at him, he smiled half-heartedly.

"You okay?" he asked hoarsely.

Arthur couldn't help but smile. Merlin had always shown himself to be caring more of others than himself; it was one of qualities that Arthur most liked about him. Even with his head cleaved opened and bleeding profusely, Merlin was still more concerned for the prince, who was smiling sadly at him.

"I'm okay, Merlin, thanks to you," Arthur replied, making sure that Merlin could hear the gratitude in his voice. "Are you alright?" he asked in return, although he knew the answer was definitely a negative.

"Yeah, I'm all right," Merlin smiled dazedly, his eyes not focusing.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him, unbelieving. He slowly helped Merlin to a sitting position. Taking on the momentum, Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm and, with a small amount of help on the prince's behalf, the warlock stood up. Arthur proceeded to examine him further.

Merlin suddenly caught sight of a swirling, grey orb of light behind Arthur. With only moments to react, Merlin pushed his friend out the orb's path, and watched it come closer.

* * *

"NOOO!" Morgana screamed, jerking upright in her bed.

Gwen instantly joined her mistress' side, having entered the room earlier because she had heard Morgana's distressful sleep. She stroked the side of Morgana's face and her hair, trying to calm the young woman. She produced a cloth hankie and proceeded to dab the tears from Morgana's eyes.

"Milady, it's okay. It was just a dream," she soothed.

She almost recoiled from Morgana, as the king's ward had a fixed, wild glare in her eyes. Then, in a flurry of movement that sent Gwen's head spinning in confusion, Morgana got out of bed and raced out of her room. After regaining her bearings Gwen followed, anxious to know the cause of her mistress' distress.

Gwen found herself racing after Morgana down the corridors. Every so often Morgana would turn suddenly and disappear down a different corridor, always confusing and startling the young handmaiden.

Eventually, Gwen had to admit defeat. She had no idea which way Morgana had gone. And with the state her mistress was in, Gwen didn't like to imagine what Morgana was going to do.

A cough sent Gwen spinning round. There were two knights on duty tonight, and they were staring at her. When they saw that they had attention, one pointed down to the courtyard. Following the direction, Gwen saw Morgana running across the courtyard. Looking back at the knights, the other pointed to a flight of stairs near them. Obviously they had seen Morgana running and she had taken those flights of stairs, or they simply knew that was the quickest way down.

Gwen thanked them quickly as she descended down the stairs and ran across the courtyard, trying desperately to catch up to her mistress. Not that she really needed to catch up; from the direction Morgana was running, it was obvious that she was running to Gaius' study. Although, Gwen had no idea why.

Gaius woke to frantic pounding on his door. The pounding was light, obviously from a woman. It would have been louder had it been a man, and it probably would have made the doors shake. Despite knowing this, he was expecting a terrified Morgana standing at his door. Rapid footsteps made him look into the corridor to see Gwen running to join to them.

Not even bothering to ask, Morgana entered Gaius' study. She searched frantically, stopping when she saw a particular door wide open: the room to Merlin's room. She spun round to face the bemused Gaius and Gwen.

"Where's Merlin?" she asked.

"He's out hunting with Arthur, I expect," Gaius explained. "He's often come back at ungodly hours of the morning."

"Gaius..." Morgana murmured, fear creeping into her voice. "Something's happened."

Gwen opened her mouth to ask, when the sound of horse hooves echoed from the courtyard. In spite of herself, Gwen left the others and made her way down to the courtyard. There was something about the little that Morgana had said which terrified the handmaiden.

Knights entered the courtyard, and they all looked like they had just come from a fight. They got off their horses and handed the reins to a nearby stable hand before hanging about quietly, as if waiting for an order.

It was then that Gwen noticed that something was missing. It was one of those things that is so obvious and yet, couldn't be described. She noticed a knight take off his red cloak, and the missing piece clicked.

Gwen looked around, but could only see a rabble of dispirited knights. A flash of blond hair caught her attention, and Gwen wove through the men to reach Arthur. When she stood in front of the prince, she stopped.

There was a dead look in Arthur's eyes as he stared at her. There were grimy lines down his face, indicating the one thing that would have shamed the prince two years ago; Arthur had been crying. Noticing that Gwen was staring at him with a look of confusion and horror, he stepped forward.

He held his hand out, to which Gwen did similar. He placed something lightly into her palm before moving off, heading in the general direction of the Great Hall. Gwen looked down to the object in her hand. She felt her heart stop and she felt the air move about her as she fell, crashing, to the floor.

She was holding Merlin's scarf. It was covered in blood.


	2. The Shards bite

Author's note: Sorry for the wait. I've had trouble with this bit, but hopefully I'll have more of the story coming out soon.

* * *

One year later....

"Danio," the words crept out in a whisper, and a candle suddenly flickered with a tiny flames.

Within seconds, a sword rested on the red velvet shoulder. It glinted, dangerously, deadly, in the dying sunlight. The shoulder beneath the velvet did not flinch, merely remain still, waiting.

"Were I anyone else... you would be dead," a masculine voice stated, warningly.

"Were you anyone else, I would not have recited the spell," a feminine voice retorted as the sword slowly retreated.

"You show too much trust in me, Morgana," the man warned, the sound of the sword being returned to its sheath echoed.

"You have known about me for a year, Arthur. If you were going to reveal me, you would have done so already," Morgana stated confidently, still not turning around to look at the prince of Camelot.

"Do not give me a reason to," Arthur whispered, the threat easily carried to Morgana.

"Can't I light a candle for him?" Morgana sighed sadly. "It's been a year, Arthur."

Arthur's eyes flickered, for a moment, they were glazed with pain. He had come to hate this place, here... where Merlin had... Yes, he hated this place.

"There are only four candles here. Me, Gwen, Gaius, and Hunith," Morgana observed, reciting with ease, though she struggled to say the name of Merlin's mother. "Over this whole year, you've never lit a candle for him."

"What's the point? It won't bring him back," Arthur argued dispassionately.

"It's a way to say that you miss him, and that you think of him," Morgana retorted. "I don't know if he knows that we light candles for him, but it feels right to do so."

Arthur didn't reply. Instead, he looked down, down to the river below. Simply looking at it brought him back to that fateful event; it brought back all the pain that he felt and felt afterwards as well.

All the searches down the river, even beyond the borders of Albion... Arthur had found no trace of Merlin. He had searched for two months, until his father had ordered him to stop. He had ignored the order and had carried on searching by himself. And then, several of the knights had come to forcefully drag Arthur back, and had been forced to resort to knocking the prince unconscious. He had had to sit on a cold bench while his father spoke to him, shackles on his wrists to stop him from storming off.

After a while, Arthur had realised that it was unhealthy to keep searching for Merlin. It was only stressful for every failed search, and it was painful for Gwen, Gaius and Morgana, who were always trying to make him stop, even though they didn't want to. It hurt for them to continuously say that Merlin wasn't going to be found. It had been a hard day when Arthur had finally realised that he wasn't going to find his friend.

"You'd better get back to Camelot," Arthur stated. "Someone might come looking for you, and if they find you here..."

"They have nothing to prove that I'm a sorceress."

"Do not say that in front of me," Arthur hissed.

Morgana looked at him, sceptical at his tone. She knew what was really bothering him. She raised her chin defiantly, in a way that only she could really pull off. She knew exactly how to deflate him, although that was no longer fun, but instead this was to keep him talking.

"You won't reveal me, just like none of us would have revealed him," She stated confidently.

"It's easy to say that when you know that you will never have to make that decision," Arthur replied impassively.

"I guess," she agreed. "But, the fact that you haven't turned me in is proof that you would never have done so to him. I would never reveal one of my own, neither would Gaius. And Gwen... well, how could she betray the man she loved?"

"Get up, Morgana," Arthur ordered. "Go back to Camelot."

She could tell by his tone that Arthur was no longer tolerating anymore delays in her leaving, but decided that she would finish what she had started. Turning her head away from Arthur, she looked back to the candles.

"We miss you, Merlin. We all remember everything that you did for us, and dream of what we never knew about. I wish we had shown enough for you trust us with your secret, but none of us blame you for it. May... May Avalon be beautiful for you."

Arthur felt a lump stick in his throat. He remembered when Gaius had told him the truth about Sofia and her father Aulfric, about how they had planned to kill him to return to Avalon. Apparently, it was a wondrous place for the souls of the noble dead, and the outskirts of Avalon were where the Sidhe lived. Arthur had no idea what it meant to be one of the noble dead, but he almost felt afraid to think that it meant those of noble lineage, which was a privilege that Merlin was not blessed with.

With her prayer finished, Morgana rose and turned away from the river cliff, facing Camelot. She sighed and lifted her hood to obscure her face, and the tears that were swelling up in her eyes, obscuring them from Arthur. To be standing here, to turn away from the edge, it felt like she was abandoning her friend.

"When will Uther return?" Morgana asked conversationally as she walked down the path with Arthur at her side.

"When he's finished the talks," Arthur answered. "Amazing to think that he's finally engaging in peace talks with neighbouring kingdoms, after all the promises that he's made for the past twenty years."

"Better late than never," Morgana reasoned.

Arthur did not reply, and Morgana decided that it was not wise to press him for conversation, at least, on particular topics. Over the last year, their relationship had turned from strained to practically non-existent. Even Uther had given up on reviving anything more than civility between the pair.

They walked in silence for a while, a silence that Morgana found more than a little uncomfortable. She wanted to talk to Arthur, and she wanted him to talk back. Unfortunately, he had become someone with very little to say, and most conversation topics were off-limits. Finally, Morgana broke the silence.

"I miss him," she admitted quietly.

She hadn't needed to say it, but it felt right to. And she was disappointed.

"Me too," Arthur replied, so quietly he was almost whispering.

* * *

The young sapling snapped and splinters flew everywhere. On top of the young tree was a man, shaking from the thrashing he'd just had. His skin was covered in cuts, scrapes, and grazes. He had a particularly nasty laceration across his left eyebrow.

Slowly, the man lifted himself off the ground. His arms were trembling, threatening to give way at any second. His breathing was fast and erratic, as he restrained himself from screaming in pain. He wanted to get to his feet, but found that he couldn't. He couldn't rise any higher, or something wasn't letting him... something or someone.

The slow, ominous sound of approaching footsteps made the man freeze. He could feel his heart begin to race beyond the speed it had been elevated to. A sense of dread and the stomach-clenching feeling of his demise looming ever closer began to work upon the man until he feared that he would pass out.

"No more, my pet," a soft, seductive voice called playfully. "Let him live for now. Let him go to the king, and tell him of us... not that there is anything that he can do against us."

The man found himself being lifted off the ground and laid carefully on a patch of clear ground, his back to the floor. With that excursion finished, the man lifted his head to look at his attackers.

They both wore cloaks that obscured his view of them, but he knew one to be female, and the other male. They were both slender in build, but the taller seemed ganglier.

"Tell your king that we are here," instructed the smaller individual, who had spoken before and sounded like a woman.

"And tell the prince that this time... he won't have some idiot servant to die in his stead," the clocked man ordered.

And then, like darkness in dawn's light, the pair vanished. Finding himself alone, battered beyond belief and completely exhausted, Lancelot collapsed.


	3. Cracks revealed

Author's note: Hello everyone! I've decided to bring my attention back to my two Merlin stories, this one and The Pooch of Camelot. I hope I won't keep you all waiting for so long, but I won't make any promises. Ah well. Enjoy!

* * *

Dawn broke over the spires on the castle of Camelot. The air was crisp and still held on to the chill of early spring, despite it being mid-summer. Within the first hour of the day, the population woke and began their busy day-to-day activities. Within the streets, merchants were selling their wares with loud, boastful voices. The scents of newly baked bread and of fresh vegetables wafted along the roads and filled the houses with enticing aromas.

In the castle itself, the training field was full of the clashing of steel, the glinting of morning sunlight off highly polished armour and the smell of sweat on an already exhausted brow. And, with one final blow, the servant fell to the floor and could not find the energy to rise to his feet.

Arthur stood above the man, and was ready to retort him for being so bad at duelling when he stopped. How often he had seen Merlin in that very same position... and yet Merlin had always been ready to stand up and take another trashing that would have him on his back. He'd shown endurance beyond what Arthur had believed possible in a servant.

He'd shown Arthur a lot of things that he hadn't believed possible in a servant. And a lot of those things he had been shown to exist in himself until...

Arthur shook his head and offered the servant his hand. The man took it graciously and slowly got to feet. He waited patiently for Arthur to release him and continue with the training, but was instead surprised when the prince patted him on the shoulder, albeit somewhat sadly.

"Get yourself cleaned up and see what you can do in the kitchen," Arthur ordered, not looking at the man. "The knights will be out soon and I can have a decent workout."

The man looked down, dejected at the prince's casual tone of his inadequacy with a sword. However, the servant made no mention about it, but merely nodded, bowed and left for the castle. As he was about to enter through a servant's entrance, he looked back at the prince and wondered what had brought such a thoughtful look upon him.

Arthur did not turn to watch the man leave him, and so did not notice the man's pause. Nor did he notice the arrival of Morgana, or how she rested on a wall nearby. Instead he looked blankly out across the field, with only one thought entering his mind. How could one man have affected him so much, regardless of who and what he was?

Morgana watched Arthur in silence, unsure on how to break him out of his reverie. She had often watched him train with the knights or by himself. She had noticed how his stance had changed. A year ago, it had been strong, full of pride and valour and a vibrancy that could only be matched by his value for life. But now, it was cold, precise and had a lacklustre feel that mirrored Arthur in such a way that it was disturbing.

Feeling suddenly saddened, she turned away from his back. Movement was caught in the corner of her eye, and Morgana turned her head further to see what it was.

It was a figure, bent over and clinging to a pole for support, as if that was all that was keeping them standing. A cloak obscured the face from view, but Morgana could see that this person was in great pain. Whoever this person was, they were heading straight towards Arthur.

Obviously this person had no idea on how dangerous it was now to disturb Arthur, even if he was just staring into a blank space. Morgana ignored the fact that the blank space was probably have been filled with a specific person had they not died.

Deciding that it was probably safer for the figure to speak to her than to the prince, she rose from the wall and approached the cloaked individual. She was still a fair distance from the person when they suddenly tripped and fell to the ground. The pole, that they had been holding, reverberated with a thunk...thunk-thunk. There was no movement.

_Holding onto the person's shoulder, the hand turned the individual over... the hood was removed and below she saw..._

"ARTHUR!" Morgana screamed behind her as she picked up her pace and began to run to the fallen form.

From the pounding footsteps, she knew that Arthur had heard her and was coming to her aid. She didn't care for her dress or the pain that shot up her legs from her knees as she crashed with the cobble. She threw her hands over the figure and turned them over, with the hood still retaining the person's identity. Without a second thought, she carefully took the hood and pulled it back.

"L— Lancelot?!"Morgana stuttered, shocked at what she saw.

The man was a mess. His face was covered in scratches that looked days old, and he had one black eye. His hair was matted and was stained with dirt and something else that Morgana feared to name. She didn't want to look at what injuries he hid beneath the cloak, but from how he had fallen, she guessed them to be terrible.

Lancelot's eyes flickered open, and for a time they were unfocused. Eventually they rested on Morgana and recognition filled them.

"Milady..." Lancelot whispered, before he coughed and scrunched up his face in pain.

"Lancelot, what happened?" Morgana asked, desperation clear in her voice. "Who did this to you?"

By this time, Arthur had joined them and had knelt down to look at Lancelot. He raised his head to look at the arriving knights. He yelled for one of them to fetch Gaius before turning his attention back to the injured man at his side.

"Lancelot," Arthur commanded. "Tell me: What happened?"

"I... never knew," he muttered. "I... never knew they could... be so powerful."

"Who?!" Arthur demanded, ignoring Morgana's stern face.

"I don't know... who they were. So... powerful..." Lancelot shuddered and a gasp escaped from his lips.

"Rest Lancelot," Morgana instructed softly, giving Arthur a look to dare him to ask any more from the poor man.

She stroked his head and gently ran her fingers through his hair. She pulled out some of the grime and it crumbled in her fingers, and she felt her stomach drop as she realised what it was: dried blood. She looked to Arthur with the hopes that he could explain something that, deep down, she knew he couldn't possibly answer.

Arthur was spared the spotlight as Gaius entered the scene, Gwen at his heels. The handmaiden stopped in shock and raised her hands to cover her open mouth. Her eyes were wide with horror, and frightened tears ran down her face.

Morgana moved from her position beside Lancelot so Gaius could take her place, and she took to standing beside Gwen. She didn't speak, not knowing what she could say.

Gaius, however, was unfazed by the sight and went straight to work. He checked the young man's vitals and declared that he was well enough to be moved. Several knights approached to help Gaius move Lancelot to the physician's chambers.

Morgana nodded to Gwen for the handmaiden to follow the procession, and found herself alone with Arthur. She was aware of the calculating look he was giving her.

"You weren't expecting him, were you?" Arthur asked finally.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Morgana replied hotly, not liking Arthur's cold tone.

"You were expecting someone else... someone other than Lancelot beneath that hood," the prince stated confidently. "Who were you expecting?"

"I was expecting him... just... not how badly his injuries were," Morgana stammered.

"I don't believe you. Who were you expecting, Morgana?" Arthur asked, a dangerous tone laced his voice.

"It doesn't matter," Morgana stated.

"The fact that you were expecting someone else matters, and the fact that you don't want to talk about it matters," Arthur insisted.

"What I saw..." Morgana began. "I think it means that Lancelot was attacked by..." she trailed off, unwilling to speak.

"By who? By what? Morgana!" Arthur shouted. "If this is important, then you should not keep it to yourself."

"I think he was attacked by the same people who..." Morgana caught Arthur's eyes and looked down. "By the same people who killed... Merlin."

Arthur's face turned from one of annoyance to one of pure and utter shock. Within a few seconds, his mind flew into action, and all the thoughts, hopes and beliefs that he had considered dead sprang back to life.

"It... it was Merlin you saw, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" Arthur asked.

Morgana bit her lip and looked at him, trying her best not to shed the tears that she could feel swelling up. She had known that he would have this reaction, and she could see the hope, total confidence and desperation in Arthur's eyes.

It made him look like the man she had known a year ago, back when he had been so adamant about Merlin being still alive. She had never seen him so sure about anything as he had been back then, and she remembered how he had changed once they finally managed to make him realise that Merlin was gone. Somehow, she had always believed that that had been the true day that Merlin died, because that had been the day that everyone stopped looking for him.

That had also been the day that the old Arthur Pendragon had died, leaving behind this hollow, cold imitation of the man that everyone admired. And now, here she was... staring at the ghost of that man, and knew that she had to kill him once again.

"It couldn't have been Merlin under that hood. I don't know why I even allowed myself to think that it could have been him," Morgana stated, hearing the threat of a break in her voice.

"Morgana... can't you see that he's still alive? After all this time? Maybe I stopped looking just before–"

"Arthur, stop!" Morgana begged, trying her best not to burst into tears. "Please don't start this again, after a year. Merlin's dead. He's gone and he's not coming back! Entertaining the thought will only hurt later on, and it will hurt everyone around you, everyone who knew him," Morgana looked at him, her lips trembling. "Please don't."

"I never found his body, Morgana," Arthur reasoned, but it was obvious that he was desperately clutching at anything to keep his hope alive.

"Come on, Arthur! You were there! You saw him die. You can't possibly think that after all this time, he'll just show up," Morgana pleaded.

Arthur was silent, but looked straight into Morgana's eyes. It was obvious that he was looking for some weakness, some point of entry, anything that would help him win an argument that he knew he had no chance of winning. He knew he couldn't win, but desperation wouldn't allow him to back down and admit defeat. For one reason, he wasn't sure if he could handle giving up again.

"Let's see to Lancelot," Morgana suggested, knowing that the argument wasn't finished.

Arthur nodded, not trusting his voice. He waited for Morgana to walk a few steps before following after her. He was on her heels at every turn, keeping pace with her. They walked in silence, but they had been doing that so often over the past year that the lack of sound seemed normal, whether it was awkward or not.

Arthur jumped in front of Morgana and opened the door to Gaius' chamber. He stood back to allow her to enter and then joined the rabble that had formed in the tiny room. Everyone stood aside to let Morgana and Arthur pass and stand at Lancelot's side and speak to Gaius.

"I'm afraid that he is in no condition to speak to you, Arthur," Gaius explained solemnly, gesturing to the several injuries that now presented themselves with Lancelot devoid of his cloak.

"We need to know who did this Gaius. We need to know how much of a threat his attackers are," Arthur reminded the physician.

"Well, that may be, but I am not prepared to let you ask questions of Lancelot. He needs rest, not badgering," Gaius protested.

"Maybe we won't need to," Morgana stated quietly, looking firmly at Arthur and Gaius alike.

"It's too crowded in here," Gaius stated. "This is a place of rest, how's he meant to get any rest with this rabble in here?!"

"Everyone, out!" Arthur ordered, and all but Gwen and a handful of knights left the room. "You as well," Arthur commanded.

"They can stay Arthur," Morgana interjected.

"But Morgana-"

"Don't you trust them?" she asked.

"It's not about trust, and you know that," Arthur insisted.

Morgana looked at him with her trademark glance and he could see no reason to prevent the knights from staying. With that argument finished, Morgana sat by Lancelot's head. She stroked his hair affectionately.

"I don't want you to worry. I'm not going to hurt you," she promised. "Just think back to the event and I'll take it from there."

Lancelot nodded weakly, closed his eyes and began to concentrate. Morgana placed her left hand on his forehead and closed her own eyes.

"Ad 'm canfod," she recited with ease.

"Magic?!" one of the knights whispered. "If the king finds out about this-"

"My father is not going to find out," Arthur interrupted, giving all the knights a look that demanded obedience. "This is Morgana, not some evil sorceress."

"It's... hot... so hot..." Morgana whispered. "Burning... everything's... burning..."

"What's burning?" Arthur asked, turning his attention to the young witch.

"The outpost, the village... everything," she answered. "It's so bright, I can hardly see. I've... I've got to get of here."

"Can you see anyone?" Arthur insisted, trying to help Morgana find a direction.

"No... everyone's gone... everyone's... dead..."_She turned around, looking for something... anything... a way out._

* * *

Everything was burning. The flames reached up to the sky, as if to try and scorch the stars themselves. The heat itself was choking, and the smoke made the air unbearable.

"Can you see anyone?"

"No... everyone's gone... everyone's... dead..."

_There were people lying in the fire, curled up, their bodies blackening as the fire consumed them. No one was alive, only her. If she didn't leave soon, she'd join them. She couldn't join them, she wouldn't join them._

_She had to live. She had to survive. She had to._

_There! A gap in the fire. It lead to the woods. She could escape this fiery death. She could live. She only had to get there._

_Running... so hard, so fast... her chest was heaving as she breathed in the smoke, as her heart raced with adrenaline and the desire to survive. Her muscles screamed as she drove them to the limit and beyond._

"Got to get out... it's so hot... I've got to get out!"

_The fire burned against her skin as she ran, but she was unfazed by its fury. Suddenly, a beam fell in her path. It blocked the way completely._

_Turning round, she could see that there was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to go. She had to go forwards. She had to take the risk. She had to, if she wanted to survive._

_She flung herself over the beam, feeling its heat scorch her face and body, and landed awkwardly on the ground. She ignored the pain and got to her feet._

"The woods are so close... I can reach them."

_Her feet finally touched the cool soil that lay beneath the trees. She paused as she caught her breath and looked back at the inferno that she had just escaped from. She was certain that she had been the only one to escape. Certain and saddened by the fact._

"I'm out... I'm in the woods."

"Is anyone else there?"

"I can't see anyone else... wait..."

"What do you see?"

"People... two people."

"What do they look like?"

"I can't tell, they're wearing cloaks... I can't see their faces."

_The figures began to approach her. For some reason, she knew she couldn't trust them and she stepped back. She knew that something wasn't right._

_The taller of the figures raised their hand to her, a strange light bubbled up within the constraints of their palm. The way the light danced was so hypnotic. Even when the light was so bright, she couldn't turn away. Even as it came towards her, she stared at it in morbid fascination._

* * *

Morgana jerked her head back and screamed. Her body was completely still and relaxed, yet it sounded like she should have been writhing in agony. Apart from the scream, the only telltale sign of pain was her face, contorted into a gruesome expression that shocked even Arthur.

Arthur longed to pull Morgana away from Lancelot, but he knew that he couldn't. Besides, he had no guaranty that the vision would stop if he did pull them apart. He could only stay by her side and wait. He felt so useless, unable to do anything... just like when Merlin had-

No! He wouldn't think of it. He needed to keep his thoughts firmly planted in today and the now, not yesterday and the moment passed. He needed to be here for Morgana.

"Morgana? Can you hear me?" he asked worriedly.

"This... this pain..." she gasped. "They're going to kill me! I... I don't want to die!"

"Morgana, this has already happened," Arthur explained, trying to help her gain control of her vision. "This isn't your pain. Move through it and tell me what's happening."

"They're... they're torturing me... I don't know I much more I can stand. They-" she broke off suddenly.

"What Morgana? What's happening?" Arthur pushed.

"The smaller one, she's told the other to stop. They're going to let me live. They say that nothing can be done to stop them," Morgana recited.

"Who are they?" Arthur asked gently.

"I don't know," Morgana shook her head. "The other... he's speaking."

"What's he saying? Morgana what is he saying?" Arthur demanded, noticing that her eyes were beginning to focus on him. She was leaving the vision.

Morgana blinked and looked at Arthur. An apologetic expression entered her face, and she bit her lip. She shook her head sadly; she hadn't managed to hear what the other individual had said. Her attention then turned to Lancelot, who had stirred beneath her hands.

"He told me... to tell you," Lancelot explained weakly. "That this time... You won't have some idiot servant to do die in your stead."

"_Idiot servant_?" Arthur echoed, a dark look entering his face.

Merlin.

Then, without a word, Arthur stood up. He turned around and stormed out of Gaius' study, slamming the door closed behind him.


End file.
